


Not Another Hideaway

by allthegayotps



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Falling In Love, How Do I Tag, I Was Allowed Near a Keyboard, M/M, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthegayotps/pseuds/allthegayotps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be a fling, but I think everyone is satisfied with how it ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Another Hideaway

The stick was just an extension of his arm. Or, it seemed that way from the bleachers where he was writing about green fields and tanned skin. He scribbled the line on the edges of the page, not wanting the beautiful thought to die in his mind. It wasn't alone on the other side of the blue line, accompanied by other words pieced together in just the right way to create a spark inside his heart. Again, he worked double time to get the words onto the page. 

Castiel's mind was the most beautiful part of himself, that much he knew for certain. He'd never find anything more heart-stopping, jaw-droppingly beautiful on himself as he found in the solace of his thoughts. From a young age he'd been able to take the puzzle pieces of the language he was born into and create storms, fires, peace, or stillness. He was a Lit major and a constant that sports teams accepted. Sometimes, there'd be a Freshman or two that he could barely hear from his seat that would ask about "that guy up there," only to be ordered not to talk until talked to.

Honestly, there were probably better places for him to write. There were definitely warmer places and even quieter. Despite this, Castiel couldn't find that he could use those words he'd learned - however painstakingly - to add to the beauty of his work. Only the cool wind, the smell of the grass, and the shouts of the players could unlock the vault he'd put his extended vocabulary in. 

"Alright, ladies! I'm letting you out early today!" At the same time as the players' hearts soared, Castiel's plummeted. He'd been waiting as patiently as he could muster for the chance to write again. His exams and holidays had been jammed full of tasks; study for tests, pack, make sure Gabriel doesn't break Mother's favorite vase, etc. So, when the lacrosse practices had picked up in February, it wasn't a surprise to his friends that he was almost bouncing with anticipation. "Don't get used to it, our first game is next week! Hit the showers!"

Castiel looked to the mostly covered page, trying to wring out a few more lines before he gave up and returned to his dorm. He wasn't aware he decided to force the words out for the next forty-five minutes until one of the players was sinking onto the cool metal bench next to him.

"What do you do up here?" His sun-kissed skin was heat-pinkened, showcasing the millions of freckles spattered across his cheeks like the stars in a desert sky. He scribbled the words out before he answered, not sure if he seemed a little creepy.

"I write." Castiel didn't know if the the freckled man was angry or suspicious or just curious about him being there, but the unease of being in trouble set into the pit of his stomach, waiting for someone to yell at him. It was a little preposterous to think he'd make anyone angry by scribbling his thoughts on the pages of a notebook while watching other men his age play a sport he wasn't agile enough to dream of playing… ever.

"You're in my Lit class. I thought your insight into Woolf's approach to feminism was great the other day." He smiled tentatively, sticking his hand out in a gesture meant to convey his friendliness. In reality, Castiel saw more the threat in his muscles than the - no doubt taught - false silent promise that he was harmless. It was this that enticed Castiel more than his words or his smile. His mind was blank, all those words meaning nothing as he slipped his hand against the newly clean hand outstretched between them. The callouses drew out his breath, sliding against his softer palm deliciously. He found himself thinking that he'd like his classmate to drag those callouses across his cheek, down his back, across every inch of his skin. "Dean."

The short introduction was enough to set the basic functions of his brain back into motion, catapulting his own name through the passageway from his brain to his mouth. "I'm Castiel."

Dean made a strange face, standing from the seat with another small smile. "I'm gonna call you Cas." He was backing away before Castiel could nod his assent to the nickname, his hands finding their way into the front pockets of his jeans. "I'll see you in class."

"Goodbye, Dean." The quick sound of his rubber soles retreating accompanied the regret Castiel could feel settling in after his reply. He flipped the cover of his notebook closed, letting his brain reboot after the standstill it had hit while he gazed at Dean. He told himself quietly it was because he hadn't been sexually active in a while, but he knew better than to believe everything he told himself.

* * *

 

"Beauty is pain." He was only allowing himself to listen to his own echo, letting his brain hear the other sounds, but not process what they meant. It was his first - and most probably last - reading. He couldn't believe he'd let his friends talk him into standing on the small stage of the coffee shop, hands clasping the edges of his notebook paper like they were the only things anchoring him to the ground. "And there's beauty in everything." He listened to himself deliver the lines like a practiced actor, not a hint of the anxiety or a single imperfection to his work. 

The bell over the door rang, but it was another sound he didn't allow himself to register for fear of embarrassing himself. "The straight line of your teeth," he envisions the same straight line in his mind, continuing on without pause. "The rough-meets-soft of holding your hand," Castiel's hand tingled softly at the memory of calloused hands. "I could say much more," that much was true to the fullest, "but I find it easier to say you. There is beauty in you."

The applause was scattered, but he smiled anyways and returned to the booth in the far corner. Sam was giving his cheeriest smile, Meg her most salacious. Aaron was talking to Kevin and Hannah animatedly, their gazes shifting between Castiel approaching and their speaking friend.

Sam was barely a Freshman, but had become a fast friend to Castiel when Meg had brought him around from her Psych classes announcing him in her loud way. "Nerd alert," she had loudly called out as she pushed him into the same booth with a smile. Indeed, Sam was of higher intellect than most of the college bums that hung around Meg on a day-to-day, but he had somehow found himself near enough that she swooped him up and delivered him to the small group. 

Honestly, he wasn't exactly sure why Meg was associated with them, but found her inspirational to be around. All that thorny pain made for wonderful poetry when he really got to letting his brain work while studying her. 

"How did it feel?" Sam scooted over to give Castiel room to sit, his eyes bright enough to shame any star in the sky. Sam wasn't the artistic type, but used his brain in a scientific, almost mathematical way. On the flip side, he was always watching in childlike wonder while Castiel wrote or drew. "You sounded brilliant, Castiel."

"Thank you, Sam. I was extremely nervous." Castiel pulled his bag from under the table, searching out the notebook he needed to store his poetry away. The worn canvas shoulderbag was stained in too many places to be considered presentable, but Castiel couldn't find it within himself to get rid of it. He'd had the old thing since his older brother - Lucifer - had dropped out of school and picked up a guitar for a barely-recognized rock band that gave him the freedom he so desperately craved when the Novaks had last seen him.

"So, featherbrain. Who's the lucky lady?" Meg was sipping a beer, her smirk enough to prompt Castiel's lips up in amusement.

"Maybe it's you," he teased. "All that thorny pain, it's quite beautiful if I must say."

Meg scoffed and swallowed another mouthful of beer, her head tipping back lightly as she did. "I don't do poetry, Hamlet. You'll have to try pick up lines if you're after my heart."

"Sammy, Dad c-" Castiel was struck by the flat planes of Dean's face, dumbly staring up at those beautiful features as he had done the week before when he'd actually met God's most precious gift to mankind. "Oh, hey!" The emerald green eyes Castiel had only had the pleasure of seeing once before were again close enough that he could remember the exact comparison he'd needed when writing the same poem he'd just read. "I just -" Dean pointed toward the stage, a smile caught on his soft-looking lips. "You were - Did you - That was yours?"

Castiel nodded, the tiny workers driving his brain were running rampant trying to reconnect the fuses that had blown loose in his mind when Dean had come into view. Too late, he remembered he was supposed to answer verbally. "Yes." It sounded flat, like he was a robot speaking when asked a direct question. 

"Dean, you know Castiel?" He could hear Sam ask the question, but did not turn his eyes to watch the conversation. Instead, he studied Dean the way he'd done numerous times with Meg, but for a different purpose. Studying Meg was done when he needed inspiration or to use his hands for purposes other than writing or, to put it plainly, intimately. In contrast, studying Dean was for the indulgence of watching something beautiful at work. 

"Yeah, we have Lit together." Dean smiled, his eyes darting between Sam and Castiel as if he could feel the gaze upon him. "Sammy's my little brother, Cas."

"Cas?" Three voices inquired all at once when Dean expressed the sentiment he'd forgotten he'd agreed to. Meg turned her smirk up to full capacity, Sam's eyebrows stitched together, and Hannah looked disappointed for some reason unbeknownst to the center of their attention. He could hardly pry his eyes away from the beautifully tanned skin and utterly ridiculous amount of freckles to give his answering shrug.

"'My name is Castiel.'" Sam was drawing his quotation in the air, giving back the same words he remembered saying when they'd met in October. "'I didn't answer because I didn't hear my name.' These are things you've said to all of us, but Dean gets to nickname you?"

"Honestly, Sam, I couldn't give a flying fuck if your brother called me Richard." Castiel smirked secretly, tucking the book that held his works back into the canvas bag and setting it near his feet. He watched smiling as Dean ran a hand through his hair, head ducking in a way that showed he didn't have much experience actually flirting outside of high school. 

"So long as it gets you dick by the end of the night?" Meg cackled at her own pun, pulling Castiel into the humor with her.

"Not where I was going with it, but classy." He rubbed at his cheek, feeling an uncomfortable twinge just as he did that announced his contact had fallen out before he could register his lack of sight in one eye. "Shit." Hannah's smile was timid in his one working eye, pulling the familiar bottle out of her small bag and sliding it across the wooden table. He tried to give back a warm quirk of his lips before he dashed away. "You're the best."

He'd only just returned the clear membrane back to his eye when the door to the bathroom swung open, bringing in the sounds of the shop on the other side. The stark differences between the thrum out life and dim, homey lighting of the shop beyond to the blinding, uniform white of the bathroom was enough to make everyone who dared to use it pause in the doorway. Neither of the two standing inside of the men's room were an exception to this.

"Hello, Dean." He could see the now-familiar dirty blonde hair in the mirror blinking against the harsh lighting, could see the small smile settle over his face as if he had been wanting waiting for a while to see Castiel again instead of the few minutes he'd been in the bathroom. "What's wrong?"

"Only that your clothes aren't decorating my apartment floor." The smooth reply was not the last thing Castiel expected, but it did cause the short circuiting he'd experienced before. He could see and feel himself turn away from the mirror, but couldn't remember ordering his feet to execute the action. For only the second time in his life - and, consequently, since he'd met Dean - Castiel wasn't using his brain at all and he was thrumming with battling emotions. Apprehension, confidence, excitement, euphoria, anger, too many to identify as his blue eyes met the green orbs still stationed by the exit.

"That can be rectified."

* * *

 

Castiel was kneeling on the bed in Dean's ever messy apartment, holding the camera focus millimeters away from his lashes as he snapped pictures of his… Well, he wasn't sure what to call Dean other than a hideaway. Said person was fixing a light bulb naked, hand outstretched and swaying slightly in effort to reach the fixture from the second rung of the ladder though Castiel had pointed out that he'd need to stand on the third for the past fifteen minutes. He'd gotten tired of trying to make the pigheaded man listen, so he'd decided instead to capture physical evidence of the beauty he was subject to observe after their bouts of creative - sometimes bordering on artistic - sex. 

Castiel didn't understand how such a beautiful being existed in the world, but enjoyed every moment in his company while it would last. Of course he didn't have reservations about his waning time with the nearly perfect creature swaying too far to the right on the ladder for anyone's comfort.

"Stand still. Your swaying is blurring the photos." It was more for Dean's safety than the shots, but Castiel knew the pig-headed man would grumble and continue on the same rung of the ladder if he thought the only thing at risk was one of his bones. Instead, he moved to the next step, head backlit perfectly for Castiel's next shot and out of harm's way.

Dean was back in the bed and pulling the smaller body closer before he gave any kind of reply. "You did that on purpose." He had slotted their bodies together, tangling his legs with the smaller man with a knowing smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Castiel looked away to admire the shots he'd captured on the camera, admiring the form he was lucky enough to worship on the occasions that they crashed together. He could remember using that same metaphor out loud and exactly how Dean had answered.

" _ We're trains on the same track at different speeds; destined to crash, but determined to keep going. _ " He smiled lightly at the memory, tracing over the image of Dean with the light haloed behind his head with his eyes. Yes, Castiel was very lucky to have the older Winchester wrapping his arms around him, nose bumping his forehead with the action of peering at the shots himself.

"You played me to get that shot." He sounded scandalized, but Castiel knew better than to think he actually felt that way. Dean swelled with pride when he saw those blue eyes tracing him the same way he would trace the lines of a painting. "I intend to get payback."

Castiel's brows rose, his head angling up to look into the green eyes close enough to count the facets. "Do you, now?"

"I do," Dean growled and flattened his palms against Castiel's back, moving to mouth playfully at the smaller man's neck. The answering giggle was enough to send him into a frenzy similar to the one that a shark experiences when it smells blood. Castiel was a writhing mess before it was over, his eyes closed and breath lost in the power of his laughter.

"Stop, stop." His attacks were as good as noodles slapping against Dean's shoulders, chest heaving desperately in the small space the larger man was giving him. "No,  _ Dean _ ." Castiel drew out the syllable of his name, whining in the effort to escape the torture he was enduring 

"What is g-?" Dean stilled and Castiel gasped when  they heard the sound of the knob on the door turning, but both lost the wits to tell Sam not to come in. Ultimately, it ended in Sam's hand over his eyes and Castiel's whole face a color of red no one had seen on anything made naturally.

* * *

 

Castiel wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. He was at the apartment, cooking dinner for the three of them and quietly listening to the two brothers bickering on the couch over who chose what to watch. He wasn't confused about that much, no, he was confused at the fact that he was here at Dean's call, but not in the man's bed. Castiel had convinced himself not to like his friend's brother too much, not to get his hopes up about their no doubt fleeting relationship.

Then, Dean invited him over for… nothing. " _ I just wanna hang out with you. _ " Castiel had been straddling him, his hands wrapped around Dean's neck as he nipped and pecked at the mouth he'd felt over almost every inch of his skin. The words confused Castiel beyond belief, but he was stamping down every thought that tried to betray his heart in the worst way. 

He stirred the spaghetti sauce dutifully, turning his eyes to catch Dean's head swiveling back to watch the television and Sam's whine about his brother's focus not even being the show. His lips turned up the slightest, eyes moving back to the sauce sitting over the mild blaze. He hummed under his breath, pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans to play the song that had been stuck in his head for days.

" _ Taking me higher than I've ever been before. I'm holding it back, just want to shout out, give me more. _ " Castiel hummed the words underneath his breath, letting his head bob side to side to the beat of the music.

" _ You're just a hideaway, you're just a feeling. You let my heart escape beyond the meaning. _ " He smiled and pulled the second pot off of the stove to drain the noodles.

" _ Not even I can find a way to stop the storm. Oh, baby, it's out of my control, what's going on? _ " He shook the colander to make sure all of the water had drained, his voice just quieter than the music escaping his phone on the counter.

" _ But you're just a chance I take to keep on dreaming, you're just another day that keeps me breathing. Baby, I love the way that there's nothing sure, baby, don't stop me, hideaway with me some more. _ " Both Winchesters were looking back at him when he turned, their expressions a mixture of confusion and awe. He felt the blush creep into his cheeks, announcing quietly, "Dinner's done."

Castiel turned to hide his bashfulness, opening a cabinet to pull bowls down for their meal. Busying himself to distract the brothers from asking him questions didn't work for long, only as long as they were scarfing down the hot meal with pleased groans and mumbled approvals between bites. When their bowls were empty and their stomachs full, Dean was running his fingers through the messy tuft of hair on Castiel's head. The smaller man leaned into the movement, letting his eyes close at the same time one end of his mouth quirked in a pleased smile.

"I'd like to hear you sing again, one day." The smile fell away with those words, but the light press of Dean's lips to one of his eyelids kept them closed. "Not now," he pulled away from Castiel's face and rubbed the blunt ends of his nails over his scalp. "When you're comfortable."

"What are we?" Castiel was leaning back onto Dean's chest when he heard the words, the words he'd been thinking for a few weeks himself. They were surrounded by grass and small wildflowers, a tree growing in the perfect way to shade them from the beaming sun. It wasn't warm, yet, but Dean had said it was the perfect temperature to be outside with no purpose. It was that same individual was the one speaking, his eyes following the path of a small honeybee hypnotically. 

Though he thought of the positives in lying about it, Castiel told him what he truly felt. "Anything you want to be." He could practically feel the man behind him rolling his eyes with that sigh of disdain, but it was the truth. "I'm not joking."

"Mhm." It was the same tone your mother takes when she knows you're lying about not breaking something in the house. She's more disappointed about you lying about it than doing it. He leaned forward and turned to look into Dean's eyes while he answered, to show him how serious he was.

"I might marry you, if you asked, sweetheart." He watched the surprise bloom behind Dean's eyes, like a light shining through a lace-thin curtain that signified the words had actually worked themselves through the gears in his mind. 

"Really?" Castiel snorted and pulled away to lean back on his chest with the small smile pulling at both of their lips. "Well, let's try boyfriend on before husband, okay?"

Castiel smiled and laced their hands together, letting his clothed legs stretch out and catch sun. "Anything you want."

* * *

 

He was lying with his hands splayed against the wooden board of Dean's bed, legs thrown over Dean's shoulder for their six-month anniversary - or for the night, at least - when Dean gave Castiel the first real present he really counted - according to the Winchester, 'gracing me with your presence' was didn't count. Castiel was panting, soft mewls escaping when Dean laved hot kisses on the insides of his thighs. 

"You told me…" his hands worked their way around the skin he knew too well to be safe for Castiel's sanity, caressing the climbs and falls of his body as if he'd memorized his boyfriend's body for this exact practice. "Anything I want." 

"Yes, anything." Dean chuckled lightly at the reaction, though Castiel didn't understand the joke behind the quiet laughter traipsing across his too-warm skin. He continued tracing the muscles and blood vessels beneath Castiel's skin, continuing as if he hadn't heard the outburst.

"I know what I want." He really wanted to either have Dean move just an inch closer or move Castiel's knees further down, but forced himself to slowly look into Dean's shining eyes, "I want to see you when I wake up every morning." The latter of the two slowly moved Castiel's legs further apart to slip up his body. "I want to come home and watch you study." He was trying not to get confused by the jumbling words and thoughts in his mind while he was watching Dean go on a road trip with his lips against his skin, but it wasn't working very well. "I want to complain about your fruity teas in my cabinet." Dean playfully nipped at Castiel's nipple before pulling away with a smirk. "I want you to move in with me."

"Oh, please." Honestly, Castiel wasn't sure what he was begging for when he did, but Dean seemed to understand that his boyfriend couldn't use his brain in the throes of passion. So, instead of waiting for a real answer, he crushed his lips to Castiel's and continued to take him apart - piece by piece.

It was after many a tender kiss to sweat-dampened skin and gentle sighs against lips that Castiel spoke again, looking up into Dean's eyes with a post-coital glow and the same radio silence where his thoughts would hum at any other time. "Yes." Dean looked confused at first, a small smile creeping across his face before his eyes popped and he held Castiel closer.

"Yeah?" The pure hope was enough to have that small smile spread to Castiel's features.

"Yes." He laughed against Dean's lips, his hands pulling the man closer by his neck while Dean wrenched him up to sit on his lap. Quietly, they sat there as long as they could keep their bladders and stomachs from complaining too loudly about being ignored for so much time. "I need boxes."

"Boxes?" Dean's hands slipped from Castiel's hips, but kept the posture of settling there while he slipped off to the bathroom. Dean brandished a plate with grapes, cheeses, and crackers when he made it back. "How much stuff do you have?"

"Not much." He took up his place in Dean's lap, smacking a kiss across the older Winchester's " _ freaking cock-sucking lips, Cas, that's what they are _ " before taking one of the grapes he knows full and well Dean doesn't like, but buys anyway. "Now that I think about it, I've  _ been _ living with you."

* * *

 

Another stupid fight about nothing. Castiel could swear that Dean wasn't truly angry about where he left his saline drps that morning, but hearing his mind's repetition of the words he still couldn't believe came from Naomi Novak over Thanksgiving dinner.

This year had been especially painful for her temper because Lucifer dropped in unannounced as well as his own surprise of telling his mother he wasn't planning on getting rid of Dean no matter how much she pouted. In the end, it was nice to speak freely with his brothers and sisters while his mother was silent; talking about their jobs, the different schools they attended, the different lives they lead.

" _ Didn't I raise any of you correctly? _ " Castiel could feel the mood slip and the blood ran like ice in his veins. He could remember clearly the look his mother donned before the harsh crack of her words rained down upon him. The look was the same reason she hadn't found out about his sexual preferences until he was no longer living in her house. " _ Didn't I raise any of you to uphold God's laws? _ "

He'd wanted to push his boyfriend out of the room before she could say any more, knowing that Naomi's sharp tongue and Dean's short fuse wouldn't blend well together. " _ If it makes any difference, I think Cas has been raised really well. _ "

" _ Of course you would, considering. _ " Castiel had gathered his coat from the back of his chair, standing with the purpose of leaving before she could say another word to get under his skin. In that moment, he might have left Dean with her if he wasn't so close behind. " _ I won't allow an abomination and someone who plays the devil's music in my home, Castiel! Come back when you've repented!" _

His eyes burned remembering the words, but he refused to cry about it after two weeks had passed. He needed to be able to study for his exams without breaking down during one. "I'm sorry." He laid his hands out to take the drops from Dean, placing it on the top shelf instead of the middle with the aftershave. "I'm really," his shoulders dropped and he turned back to the bedroom, eyes downcast. "Really sorry, okay?"

"No." He looked up, watching the fire dance behind Dean's eyes in a way that suggested he would agree to a murder spree if the option was given. "No, because I can't make your mom change and it pisses me off."

"No one can change her, Dean." He fell back onto their shared bed, staring at the ceiling while he waited for his boyfriend to join him. "I love her and I know this is the way she shows she's worried." He hesitated and reached out to grasp one of Dean's hands in his. "I thought she was going to say something about you, I was angry when I stood up. Then-then she…"

Castiel was cradled against his side, the familiar heat and scent tricking his subconscious to believe when Dean whispered "It's gonna be alright" in his ear. Desperately, he wished he truly believed it.

* * *

 

" _ How long has it been? _ " 

" _ Five minutes. _ " Dean was pulling at his tie impatiently in the video, the sun shining in his face from the living room window as they - presumably - waited on Castiel to don his graduation robe. Sam was operating the camera for the stupid video Dean had insisted on. " _ C'mon, baby! _ " Faintly, Castiel tossed back snark, causing Dean to slide his hand over his face and mumble to his brother. " _ I swear, he's gonna be late to his own funeral. _ " 

" _ So, how long have you and Cas been together? _ " He still didn't like that Sam had caught onto the nickname, using it just as smoothly as Dean did since the first. But, that wasn't what Castiel was watching through the video. He was watching Dean sit up with a cheesy smile. 

" _ Well, technically we were together before we figured out we were together. _ " He barked a laugh and leaned back in his chair, motioning to Sam behind the camera. " _ Like when he moved in. Most of his stuff was here and he had a key, but we hadn't slapped a label on it. _ "

" _ So, tell us how long you've been together and how long it's been since you labeled it. _ " Sam's hands were unstable, the camera shaking as he interviewed Dean on the couch Castiel was sitting on.

" _ A little more than two years for how long we've actually been together and, in about a week, it will be two years to the day since we actually started dating. _ " The light shining in Dean's eyes was enough to prompt the curve of Castiel's smile every time he watched the video, though it was older than their relationship had been at the time he first saw it.

" _ So, would you say you love him? _ " Sam captured the shy, forthcoming smile on Dean's face before Castiel rushed into frame from the background, robe open over his shoulders. The video cut out his graduation-induced-panic, jumping to the taller of the two shutting him up in the most effective way. They stood together until Castiel was grinning up at his boyfriend and no longer running around like the proverbial chicken. " _ I would say he does. _ "

Again, the video cut to a different scene and Sam was filming Dean and Castiel's friends socializing. " _ So, what do you think about Dean and Cas? _ "

Hannah was the focus for the moment. " _ I think Castiel loved Dean from the beginning. _ "

Then, Balthazar. " _ Oh, they're so adorable I could barf all over the table. _ "

Charlie was smiling in her inherently devious way, the tips of her teeth showing just beyond her lip. " _ I think Dean is probably going to get a kick out of calling Cas professor. _ "

" _ Gross, Charlie. That's my brother. _ " She shrugged and exited the shot, the next person in focus was Aaron.

" _ They're happy. As Castiel's friend, that's all I'd like to see for him, that he's happy. _ "

Jo was introduced fiddling with the hem of her dress, then answering Sam's off-screen question. " _ I think God knew what he was doing when he put those two on Earth. _ "

" _ I just wish I had gotten a bite outta featherbrain myself. _ " Castiel still laughed lightly at Meg's words, a little moisture building up in his eye when she gave a sentence not containing snark to anyone around her for the first time since the two had met. " _ And, as long as Dean is good to him, I more than approve. _ "

Then, the camera - Castiel later found out that Sam had stacked it on someone's drink - was pointed at Sam. In the years since he had met Sam, the younger had grown outrageously. Castiel hadn't grown four inches since sophomore year of high school, but Sam had sprouted almost a whole foot in two years of college. He gave the camera his standard dopey grin, hands caressing the edge of their kitchen table. 

He still couldn't remember any of these things happening. Not his friends sneaking away while they were in the apartment to give an interview about how they felt or Sam filming any of the graduation, but he watched the younger Winchester sit back in his chair.

" _ I think they were lost the first time they looked at each other. _ " The scene jumped one final time, pictures rolling past of early morning kisses and selfies they'd taken together on dates. Even their photo booth pictures had made their way onto the video. The last pictures to show were those Castiel did know about before being given the video. A picture of him on the stage, accepting his diploma and being pulled in close to Dean after the horrendous ceremony. 

For the last time, the video cut to a different scene. Dean was sitting on the bed with the camera placed on the bed side table. His face was barely in the shot. " _ Okay, you're in the shower and I really hope you don't hear me right now. _ " His lips tilted upward at an unspoken joke, head shaking to center his thoughts. " _ But, I know that if I don't say it now, I won't. Cas, I love you, man. _ " Dean looked to the floorboards, his ears pinkening at the declaration though there was no one really there to hear it. " _ And, I really love having you around. So, how about trying husband on for size? _ " 

" _ Babe? _ " Castiel could hear himself off camera before Dean switched the video off, the footage ending in the dark pink of the older Winchester's palm.

"Are you watching that again?" Dean moved Castiel's legs and settled on the couch underneath them, the lingering scent of his body wash following as he did. 

"So what if I am?" Castiel teased.

Dean was smiling when he pulled Castiel to sit in his lap instead of hovering. "You big, old sap."

"You fell in love with me." He laughed and settled his head onto Dean's shoulder, letting the exhaustion of a Friday teaching Literature to high schoolers. "What would you say if you were dropped back into the bathroom all those years ago? Or on the bleachers? Looking back, would you have said something funnier?"

Dean was silent for a long time, then spoke quietly to Castiel. "No, but maybe a little classier. What are we gonna tell our kids?"

"We'll tell them the truth," he held in a deep laugh. "I was basically hypnotised by your beauty and you kinda liked me." Dean joined in on the laughter, pulling his arms around his husband's midriff.

"What about you?" Castiel looked into Dean's eyes, watching everything above his cheekbones move with the words. "What would you say?"

"Something that didn't give you the chance to make that horrible joke I can still remember almost fifteen years later."

"I thought you were this genius writer guy who would appreciate a postcoital pun!" 

Castiel laughed lightly and settled further into Dean's arms, the fingers of his right hand twisting the plain gold band on his left. "You were wrong." And it truly was okay afterwards.


End file.
